


Deck the Halls

by roolsilver



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Secret Solenoid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28481829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roolsilver/pseuds/roolsilver
Summary: Secret Solenoid gift for carmarriage! They asked for some affectionately catty decorating domestic schmoop. Hope I delivered!
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19
Collections: Secret Solenoid '20-'21





	Deck the Halls

Ratchet was never really one for holiday decorating, or any decorating really. It was a lot of effort for something that, until recently, no-one but him would likely see, and he wasn't fond of the mess that was invariably left behind every time Rodimus decided to try out another 'human holiday'. Honestly, how Tailgate had gotten tinsel that far into his joints wasn't something that Ratchet even wanted to consider. But the first Christmas on the Lost Light had been a hit overall(despite some few mishaps), and now that the time had come again, well, he finally had something worth making a fuss over.

Drift was absolutely swathed in tiny lights, wrapping around his forearms and even tangling around his peds, stubbornly pawing at the miniature strands of wires. Yes, the lights were perfectly capable of running off of the ship's ambient power, but Brainstorm had latched onto the idea of 'replicating' fairy lights on a larger scale, and with that came the tedious tangling of wires. They had actually been delivered pre-tangled in a box of corrugated aluminum that looked like it had been through planetfall for added realism, curse Brainstorm to the Pit. Perceptor too, now that his guiding hand was more often than not stayed by his affection for the more erratic inventor. Ratchet could go over and help disentangle his conjunx. They had meant to dangle the lights from magnetic clips around the doorway and across one of Drift's shelves of Things(mostly large raw or cut crystals, with a few odd knickknacks thrown in for flavor). Their intentions didn't seem to matter to the little strands of Christmas cheer though. Ratchet glanced back up, basking in his quiet enjoyment of Drift's calm-but-determined face as he chased knots through the pile of lights. It was certainly a change for both of them, putting their efforts into something so frivolous as temporary colorful lights and sparkling ornaments, but being able to watch Drift throw himself wholeheartedly into something that wasn't fighting or work was definitely one of the perks of the season, if you asked Ratchet.

Ratchet had his own project currently, tapping at the screen of a datapad. It was a bit silly, he could admit, but he was waiting to catch the way Drift's finials perked up at the first notes of music floated over the murmur of the film on the vidscreen. He turned, dislodging a loop of lights that had made its way to his shoulder kibble, and his grin was worth the awkwardness of requesting a copy of the Christmas music from Swerve. Ratchet had used his second most unimpressed face, but the little bartender had still chuckled as he handed over the pad. Now seeing Drift's optics relax and seek out the source of the tune on the speakers put a smile on Ratchet's face too.  
"Don't get too distracted, now. I'd hate for you to end up buried under an endlessly-expanding pile of completely non-functional wires." Drift's grin widened, recognizing the teasing for the opening it was and answering with relish. He drew a deep, slow breath, finding just the right words.

"Now Ratchet," he smirked, trying to school his face and voice into his best 'Serene Spectralist Prophet' -always guaranteed to wind up his conjunx the most, "the wires aren't completely non-functional. They provide several benefits. The deep, green color is symbolic of the evergreen trees on Earth, which gave primitive humans hope in the winter when all their food plants were dying. They also space the lights evenly, representing the stars in the sky, some of which we can see now from a completely different angle-"  
Ratchet just grinned back at him. "You are. So. Full of scrap." He drew Drift, wires and all, into an embrace, and both of them were tangled and laughing when he released his partner just far enough to watch him sway to the music. "Are you ready to do this the easy way yet?"

Drift's finials drooped, considering. He wasn't one to give up on a job before it was finished, but Ratchet had a point, they weren't getting anywhere like this. The 'pop' of Ratchet sliding a light out of its rubbery casing brought his attention back to the matter at hand, and with a deep exvent he grabbed another piece of the strand and started harvesting the little light housings off of the cords. Barely an hour later and the hab was twinkling around them, multicolored lights turning his crystals into works of art and casting a gentle light across the whole space. Drift took a step back after arranging the last of the lights to admire the picture it made, complete with his conjunx on the couch, distracted by the vintage movies they'd been traditionally ignoring on the vidscreen as part of the 'authentic decorating experience'. The only thing marring the view was the glower Ratchet was casting toward the show that was playing.

"What's wrong?" Drift slid onto the couch next to Ratchet, taking the medic's hand in his and glancing at the movie playing. Just a black and white scene of people having a party. Ratchet went to cross his arms in irritation, but when he realized he would have to let go of Drift, he just huffed and curled his free hand into a fist.  
"This fool human on the video! I can't believe this is supposed to be a Christmas movie! It's ridiculous that someone would think that just disappearing would have no effect on the people who cared about them!" Drift looked again at the screen. He didn't recognize the show, but he had been half-listening to it along with the music, and looking back he could see where Ratchet might draw some uncomfortable parallels. 

"You've always been my guardian angel to bring me back, Ratch. And look- he figured it out. There he is with his conjunx, celebrating being alive, right back home where he belongs. They're even honoring old acquaintances coming back together. Looks like Christmas to me."

Ratchet just tugged at Drift until he crawled into the heavier mech's lap, wrapping himself around his conjunx completely. "Some idiots need someone to come after them," he grumped, settling his hands onto the dip of Drift's back.

"You're cute when you care, Ratch. Even when you're grumpy." Drift's teasing grin was back.

"Oh frag off!" Ratchet shoved his face away with the palm of his hand, gently enough to prove to Drift that the medic was still playing with him, and both wiggled until they were laid out on the couch side by side in what Ratchet absolutely would not call a cuddle to watch the next movie coming on. Something with an angry green creature that would certainly provide many jabs to be had at his mate. Yes, Christmas was definitely a good idea.


End file.
